


The Last

by SeafoamSoul



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeafoamSoul/pseuds/SeafoamSoul
Summary: You keep running into a stranger in the middle of the night at the grocery store and they’re always reaching for the things you’re trying to get. The two of you settle it the best way you know how. Fluff.





	The Last

Of course, it’s just your luck you ran out of your favorite cereal. Even better, you didn’t find out until 2 am in the middle of a Netflix binge. With a sigh, you grabbed your jacket, sliding it on before leaving your apartment. You gave yourself a mission, intent on getting to the nearest grocery store to pick up your cereal as fast as possible. If you focused, you could get there and back really quickly and not miss too much of the time you wanted to use to relax in front of your tv.

The grocery store was virtually empty when you entered, people obviously at home asleep. You should be doing the same, you chastised yourself as you peered up at the labels on the aisles, trying to find the cereal aisle. Staying up this late wasn’t incredibly healthy, and scarfing down a bowl of cereal at the time even less so. Still, if this was the way you wanted to relax for your first two-day stint off work for a while, then that’s how you’d do it, healthiness be damned.

Being so stuck in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed you’d made it to the cereal aisle before you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going!” you rambled, looking up at the person you’d run into. The man in question looked nice, in a weird sort of way. Weird for you, that was, he definitely wasn’t your type, but with his hair pulled back in a bun and his beard, well, you could make an exception for him. Except that you couldn’t, you reminded yourself as you continued to stare at him, because he’s a stranger in a grocery store.

“No problem,” he assured you, voice low and even. The smile he graced you with had you blushing, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you stepped even further away from him before turning your attention to the shelves. It only took you a moment to scan the shelves before you saw the cereal you were after - the last box they had - and your hand shot out to grab it at the same time the man’s hand grabbed it.

Instinctively tightening your grip on the box, still sitting on the shelf, you turned to the man next to you. “What are you doing?” you asked him, tight smile on your face. All you wanted was to buy your cereal and go home, but it seemed like it was going to take a little longer than you originally thought.

“This is my favorite cereal,” he answered with a shrug, pulling the box closer to him.

“Honey Bunches of Oats is your favorite cereal?” Your eyes narrowed to slits as you stared at him in disbelief. There was no way he came here to buy your cereal.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, as if you were an idiot for not understanding. “And I ran out, so…”

“This is my box though,” you argued, attempting to tug the box closer to you. You didn’t move it far, the man’s grip tighter on the box than you thought. With one glance at his arm, you realized just why he was more in control of the box than you were. He obviously worked out a lot and was in great shape.

“But I wanted this one,” he said simply.

“There are other stores you could go to, ya know.” You refused to back down from this argument. You were going to buy this cereal and go home and make the most out of what was left of the night.

“Then why don’t you go to one?” The smirk on his face that accompanied his remark had your mind reeling. The two of you stared at each other for a while, neither wavering, until you came up with a solution.

“Thumb wrestling!” you nearly shouted, ignoring the look of confusion on the stranger’s face. “We’ll thumb wrestle for it.”

“Are you a child?” he argued, laughing at you.

“Do you want to leave this store any time soon?”

“You seriously want to thumb wrestle for this box of cereal?” It was obvious he didn’t believe you, didn’t think you would take this as seriously as you were.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, cocking an eyebrow at him. “So what’ll it be?”

With a sigh, the stranger nodded and put his basket down next to him before holding his hand out to you. You smiled at him, reaching out your own hand.

“Just so you know,” you began, concentrating on the movements of your thumb against his as the two of you began. “I’m a thumb wrestling champion.”

“Come on, there’s no - hey!” he yelled as you trapped his thumb underneath yours.

“Do you play by the three second or five second rule? Because either way,” you said as he desperately tried to escape your grip. “At this point, you lost.”

The stranger grumbled as he released your hand and his grip on the box of cereal. “How did you do that so quickly?”

“I told you, I’m a champ,” you said simply, turning on your heel and leaving the stranger alone in the cereal aisle, your prize in your hand.

========================================

For some reason, you always got sick way more easily than anyone else you knew. You blamed it on the fact that you had a delicate immune system, but your friends all say it’s because you stress too much. Either way, you found yourself huddled up in a blanket on your couch, crumpled up tissues surrounding you, a half empty bottle of cough syrup on the coffee table in front of you.

You hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch for hours. You didn’t plan to, either, except for the fact that all you wanted at the moment was some soup. Of course, your house was not stocked well enough for your current illness, a fact that you verified with one simple glance in your pantry.

With a sigh, you slid on the closest shoes you could find before shuffling out of your front door. All you needed was one can of soup, maybe some more tissues. It shouldn’t take too long to get those supplies, and then you could collapse right back on your couch and ride out the rest of your cold.

Thankfully, the grocery store nearest your apartment wasn’t too busy, just some families grabbing last minute ingredients for dinner. You grabbed one box of tissues before winding your way through the aisles to the soup. One hand was on the last can of chicken with stars, your favorite, when a stuffy voice interrupted you.

“Oh come on,” the voice huffed.

Turning on your heel, you saw the same stranger from weeks before. Tonight, however, his nose was red, his hair in an incredibly messy bun, and he had one tissue balled up in his hand.

“You can’t be here for this soup,” you said, unable to believe this was happening to you again.

“That’s my favorite soup,” he whined, inching closer to you.

“It’s my favorite soup,” you replied, tucking the can close to your chest. “And I’m sick.”

“I’m sick, too.” He held up the crumpled tissue in his hand as proof.

“Fine, we can thumb wrestle for it,” you shrugged, placing your goods down at your feet.

“No, we can’t. You’ll get my germs.”

For a second, you paused, feeling touched he was seemingly concerned that you would get his germs and not the other way around. But you were intent on getting this soup and getting back home. Your couch was calling to you, after all.

“I’ll be fine, come on,” you urged, holding your hand out.

“This is dumb,” he grumbled, holding his hand out nonetheless. Within seconds, his thumb entrapped yours and he held it there, triumphant smile on his face. “What happened to being thumb wrestling champ?” he asked, letting your hand go.

“I’m sick,” you whined, pouting up at him.

“I’ll just take my soup and go, now, please,” he smiled, holding his hand out towards you.

“If I die without my soup, I want you to know it’s all your fault.” You shoved the can of soup into his chest before grabbing the first random can of soup you saw on the shelf.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you don’t die!” he called after you as you stalked away from him.

You didn’t answer him, just threw your free hand over your shoulder and kept walking, scowl on your face.

======================================

Work was insufferable for you, your boss never gave you even a second to catch your breath. He was on your back constantly, and you were exhausted after dealing with him. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and make too much pasta for one person to consume in one sitting. You had the next day off, so you figured you could make all that pasta, binge some Netflix, and have more pasta as a late night snack.

Until, that is, you were in the pasta aisle at the grocery store and saw the same mystery stranger from the cereal and soup debacle holding the last box of penne pasta.

“I don’t have the energy to thumb wrestle you for that,” you sighed, stepping up next to him.

He jumped a little, startled at the intrusion, before smiling at you. “We meet again.”

“I’ll pay you for the pasta, just please, let me get it so I can go home and relax.” You completely skipped the pleasantries, propping your hand on your hip.

“You know, all these times we’ve run into each other and I still haven’t introduced myself. I’m Elias.”

“Oh, well, um. It’s nice to formally meet you, I guess,” you replied, telling him your name as well.

“And since you don’t have the energy to thumb wrestle me for this pasta, why don’t you let me get it? You go home, get out of that work uniform, and come over to my place. Let me make you dinner.” Elias’s offer hung in the air between the two of you, your mouth open in shock.

“I - no, I can’t let you do that,” you insisted, taking a step back.

“It’s the least I can do, especially since I left you sick and without your favorite soup last month. And anyway, we keep finding ourselves in this position. Don’t you think it’s fate?” Elias asked, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Do you really think this is fate?”

“I think it’s worth exploring,” he answered easily, holding his phone out to you. You took it from his hands gingerly, programming your number in before handing it back to him. After a moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket. “I just sent you my address. I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”

“Fate, huh?” you asked, walking to the end of the aisle with him.

“That or Cupid has been hard at work for the past couple of months,” Elias said with a wink before turning to the checkout lanes. “See you soon!”

=============================================

“I just want you to know that this better put an end to you always trying to get the last item I want in the store,” you warned when Elias opened his door.

It had taken you a while to even decide if you would show up at his apartment. But he did offer you free food, and he seemed sincere. So here you were, in front of his door, casually dressed.

“I’ll try my best,” he assured you, ushering you into his apartment. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

You just nodded at him as you took in his living room. It was clean and organized without looking too sterile. There were books stacked on the coffee table and a guitar in the far corner in a stand.

“You play?” you asked, walking towards the guitar.

“I can show you after dinner?” Elias offered, standing in the entryway, hands in his pockets. His hair was in the bun you were used to seeing him in, a floral kimono on over a plain white tee shirt.

“As long as you’re not awful at it,” you joked, smiling at him.

“I’ve been told I’m not too bad. I’ve got a few fans,” he told you, returning your smile.

“So, what, you’re a musician?”

Elias opened his mouth to respond when a timer went off in the distance. “Come on, that’s the kitchen timer. I’ll tell you over dinner.”

“Just so you’re aware,” you began, trailing after Elias. “I decided to duck out of my original plans to be here.” You took a seat where he pointed, settling into your chair. “I’m sure my Netflix account will miss me.”

“You can just let it know you had better company tonight,” Elias winked, placing a plate of pasta coated in tomato sauce in front of you. Another plate of garlic bread was placed in the middle of the table as Elias sat across from you.

“The company of a mysterious stranger who was dedicated to taking the last of every item I needed,” you laughed, eyes focused on the man across from you.

“It didn’t turn out too bad,” he replied, smile on his face as he watched you settle in and get comfortable.

“Not too bad at all.”

=========================================================

Hours later, dinner was over and the two of you had gone to Elias’ living room and settled onto his couch. You two had talked all through dinner, getting to know one another and you were amazed at how comfortable you were around him, how nice he really seemed. He grabbed his guitar and was showing off to you as promised, playing melodies you recognized and some you didn’t. You couldn’t help but become enthralled by his presence, how at ease he looked with his guitar in his hand, focusing on the strings. Before you knew it, it was midnight and the two of you were still chatting over the light background noise of his guitar playing.

“Oh, I have to go,” you sighed, reluctantly standing up from your spot on his couch. You weren’t sure you really wanted to leave, not with how relaxed you felt around Elias, but you knew you definitely needed to get some sleep.

“Thanks for coming over,” Elias said, walking you to the door.

You blushed before answering, stopping just in front of his door. “Thanks for feeding me.”

“Any time.” His voice was serious but his eyes were soft, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m serious. I’ll let you know when I get back in town this week and we can hang out, okay?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, turning back to the door and moving to stand in his hallway. Before you could stop yourself, you were on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. And then you were gone, leaving Elias with a stunned smile on his face. You couldn’t wait until the next time the two of you could get together. Not if it was going to be anything like this.


End file.
